Blindsided
by YouStarteldTheSister
Summary: A first person POV fic, where Spy admits that he always saw their fights as a sort of twisted little dance.


It's almost like a dance, the way you move to the groove. Your feet move forward as your blade swings to the side, my body moves back and the knife swipes your cheek. It cuts you deep but you do not seem to notice. The blood slides down your face, only to drip onto the ground, peppering the floor of your nest. You catch me staring and knock me back, now we are against the wall and I am close enough to smell it, close enough to want to stick my tongue out and taste the coppery tang. Lick the wound I caused clean.

You snap and snarl, growl and threaten, but I can not help but wonder.. will you try to care for the cut yourself? or leave your nest to see the doctor? I can almost see the look of annoyance on the german's face as you ask for his help. Hear the huff he will no doubt let out when you dodge the question of how you got the cut, and the grumbled protests of his talents being wasted here. But you will not tell him because you do not want to admit that I got the better of you.

I am silent, and this silence bothers you doesn't it?. I can tell that it does, and that knowing smirk that appears on my face only bothers you more. I am almost saddened by the loss of contact when you stop pressing your body against mine, but I do not let that sadness show on my face, only lift myself off the wall and hold my knife at the ready. Our bodies are tense, yours like a viper ready to strike while my own is like a spring ready to bounce out of the way at just the right moment.

That moment comes when you lunge at me, aiming to drive your kukri right into my gut. But instead you only hit air as I move away. Floating through the air like a feather on the wind, I avoid your attacks and you wise up to my own. We continue our dance, we find that groove again, it is a dance we seemed to have done a hundred times before. But somehow, you always make each time feel like the first time. Make me feel like I am young and inexperienced once again, make me feel like at any moment I am going to slip up and that is when you are going to get the better of me and the mission will fail... I have not felt such things in such a long time, it is exhilarating.

You are the only one that can make me feel this way bushman, and I would thank you for it, but I hear the harpy's screech. The countdown has begun and the day's battle will be over soon. I have no choice but to end our dance as well, gliding around the left side and driving my knife into your back. Burying the blade in to the hilt and hearing a crack as I hit your spine. There is a moment of silence, a few seconds where we both frozen like a pair of statues, and then I use the hidden strength in my arm to jerk the knife free. Some of your blood gets on me suit, and more speckles the area around us as a flip the knife. Using a well practiced hand movement to conceal the blade and lock it into place, exchanging it for the silver cigarette case I always keep with me in the hidden pocket of my suit.

As I bring the filter to my lips, as the silver lighter flicks into life and the flame catches on the tobacco I cannot help but look down at your body. You had not crumpled in a heap like I had expected, but this time dropped down onto your knees before hitting the ground. I cannot see your face, but am instead given a wonderful view of the killing blow. With the way the blood pours from it, and the vest you insist on wearing hides most of it, it looks more grotesque and painful then I'm sure it actually is. There is enough time to take another long drag of the cigarette, and then your body fades, respawn picks you up, and the harpy screeches that the battle is over, we have won.

I blow out a large cloud of smoke, watch at it lingers in the air. You will no doubt be angry with me, I have filled up the nest with the smell of my "french", as you so eloquently put it. But I am not afraid, I merely drop my the bud onto the ground and put it out with a quick turn of my foot. I climb down from your nest, and cloak before you or anyone else has a chance to see me. I take my time walking back to my base, I even pass you on your way back from respawn. You are grumbling about the phantom pain in your back, and I smile. Why do I smile? because I know you, you will sulk and fore go your nest in favor of sleeping in your van tonight.

And when you do, would you please leave the door unlocked mon cheri? for I will be there tonight.. after all the others have gone to bed. I will be there to kiss away the pain and make you forgive me for everything I have done to you today. I will be there to lay in bed and promise that things will never change, promise my love to you and that tomorrow's battle will be just as exciting. I will be there to lay by your side until you fall asleep, looking just as tense and predatory as you do when awake.

I will not be there when you wake, for when the sun rises I will have been long gone. Back to my base to wash awake the filth from our love making, and into my own bed to get what little sleep I can before the soldier comes and beats on my door shouting at me to wake up and start the day like a real man instead of a lazy commie. But do not despair bushman, and do not dare to miss me, for I will not be away for long. All we have to do is be patient, wait for those sirens to blare and the harpy to screech. Then we will dance again my darling, and the cycle will begin again.


End file.
